Normality
by SpellboundWinter
Summary: Life in South Park was anything but exciting. Nothing ever changed, at least for Kenny. But when tragedy strikes, Craig becomes withdrawn and it's all on the parka clad man to help him get better. Bunny and Creek with a hint of Crenny.


Life in South Park was anything but exciting.

Monotonous. Boring. Safe.

Nothing ever changed.

Every day was the same, and everyday went on at its own lazy pace.

You've probably haven't heard of the town because of how nestled it was in the Colorado Rockies, and how out of reach it was to normal people. South Park was like a black hole that was constantly sucking up the inhabitants.

When you come to South Park, you can't leave it.

It's where people come to stay and where they die.

...Although, it wasn't supposed to be literal.

Kenny was still asleep that Sunday morning, in dreamland with naked women, slaying dragons with broadswords. His favorite kind of dream. He was happily asleep until he felt something rocking against his side, trying to stir him awake. The blonde made a lethargic attempt to get away from whatever was trying to disturb him, mumbling and groaning. He could see the big titty babes in his dream fading away, which made him irritated.

It wasn't his alarm that woke him, it was something different. Different from the norm. And there was no way in hell he was going to wake up early on his day off.

Someone called out, "Ken," the person had an odd drawl as he spoke softly again, "Hey!" Two larger hands shook him more, forcing him out of his slumber. "Kenny, wake up already! It's an emergency!"

All Kenny heard was, 'emergency' and nearly shot upward, gagging on a bit of mucus that gathered in the back of his throat. "W-what?!" his vision coming back to him as he spotted his lover. There was no smell of a fire and Butters didn't look battered. He didn't see an emergency.

"Ken, you awake?"

"No," Going from mildly irritated to annoyed, he spat, "I had that dream again dude! We can play hide the weasel later, okay?"

The lighter blonde sitting at his bedside bit his bottom lip, fumbling with the phone in his hand as Kenny rustled back into bed, taking the blanket with him, shutting his eyes when Butters spoke again, "I-it's about Craig…"

Craig.

Kenny sat up, eyes wide with shock, he searches his companion's expression. Butters, still holding the battered home phone, reaches out with trembling fingers, placing it in his palm. He wasn't saying anything and not giving him any information. Just something about Craig. He knew just by how he was acting, it wasn't a friendly house call.

Kenny placed the receiver to his ear.

…His breath hitched painfully in his throat. He couldn't help but listen in disbelief. The person on the other end held no voice, as if he couldn't hear who they were... but heard what they had said.

Craig… he was-

...he had saw him just a week before. A Sunday morning like this one. Monotonous and boring.

It was only a week.

Kenny used to visit Craig. It used to be an everyday thing. Like everything else in South Park. Monotonous. Boring. Safe. Nothing ever changed.

He remembered the last day he saw Craig.

It wasn't a particularly odd morning, nor was anything out of the ordinary. Figures. Going over the morning rituals of sex, coffee and breakfast and especially, going to see Craig.

Sunday, his day off and no doubt he was missing prime cartoons. But, Chipokemon could wait.

Moving past Butters and the wafting smell of burning eggs, with a small kiss and pat on the ass and he was on his way. Kenny would bundle up in his parka, just enough to keep warm for the short walk down the road.

In fact, everyone he knew lived pretty close together…

He had only one question: Where the fuck was everyone else? Where was Craig's friends? Why wouldn't anyone go see Craig? Here he thought Token, Clyde, hell maybe even Jimmy would visit. Maybe they did visit… or maybe they didn't care? Or maybe it was too hard to do?

There was no excuse.

Kenny found himself at Craig's front door, using the key that he gave him a few months back. That same old town house. Number one. The one on the left with the big maple tree growing outside. Opening the door, he stomped off the snow from his soaked loafers, slipping his parka off and tossing it onto the couch.

Another blizzard. Nothing new.

"Yo, Craig! I'm here!"

When he didn't get a response, he wasn't surprised. So, he set off to search each room carefully, looking for any trace of Craig. Kenny would never admit it, but he was afraid of visiting and finding the man, well… dead.

He peeked in the kitchen, finding no trace of Craig. Wandering over to the counter, he placed another few hundreds down where he would find it. The noirette never asked for it, but seemed like he always took it. Poor dude.

With the living room and kitchen, there was only place he could be. Up the stairs he went, going up to the chullo man's room. The door made a squeak of protest as he peeked his head inside. He could see his whole silhouette being illuminated by the TV.

Kenny didn't need to look at what was on the screen. He already knew.

It was an older film of Tweek. How did he know? Kenny could tell by the way Tweek's shirt was messily buttoned. When he was older he always made sure to look twice, even in public and if he missed a few Craig would be there to kneel down and help him. But this younger Tweek was looking nervous and wide eyed, not to mention Craig and Tweek were wearing ridiculous party hats with a cake that Kenny was sure Craig had made himself. Looked like surprise.

The blonde inflated his cheeks, blowing out the candles before Craig tossed him a present nonchalantly. Tweek smiled in return and so did Craig.

The man who never showed an emotion, smiled only when Tweek would.

They were both smiling.

Kenny took his steps slowly, approaching the man seated on the floor, staring blindly at the screen. "Uh, dude… Craig, how's it going?" He didn't speak a word and Kenny knelt down to his level, noticing familiar purple bags that hung under his eyes, amplified by his considerably pale complexion. Kenny spoke in a hushed tone, placing his hand on Craig's shoulder. "I was in the neighborhood and I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Craig didn't acknowledge him, most likely because he didn't feel like talking. It was normal.

The blonde chewed his cheek, not sure what to say.

"Hey! I know, why don't we go out for lunch?" he cheers, "We can get some KFC or something. O-or I can spend the night with you again, have a little slumber party."

He noirette didn't speak, instead he turned, looking Kenny over, mouth gaping, "You're home?"

"Huh?"

Getting to his feet, Craig did as well, and eagerly at that. However, it was strange. It was this burst of energy, like life has sprung back into his corporeal form. "Tweek? What are you doing here?" His thin lips curved into a smile for only a few seconds before returning into a pressed line. "You're all wet. Did you forget your umbrella again?" He flicked the few wet locks from his eyes. "You're always in a rush. I told you it was going to rain this week. Its spring, you idiot."

...what?

The silence between the two seemed like an eternity. Kenny wasn't entirely sure what to do, and not helping his situation was Craig's eyes. They were transfixed on Kenny. Seeing all of him, yet seeing through Kenny. And he kept getting closer and closer, with each step becoming more and more alive. Like a flower blooming, hopeful and strong.

"Craig… I'm not-"

"Tweek," his nasally voice caught in his throat. "I thought you'd never come home. You were supposed to come home right after work."

Kenny was hushed, studying him as he encroached upon him, coming close to cornering him. Eliciting a bit of panic in the orange parka-less man.

"...But you never did." Craig was so close Kenny could see a few tears that threatened to spill over. His usual monotone voice and expression, it was all there, but the tears... they didn't belong there. "You never came home."

"I…"

Craig's teeth clattered together. Kenny could see the glimmer of metal, his retainer just slightly noticeable. "You told me you'd be home as soon as you could. That'd you'd be, 'right off work after you closed up shop'. I waited all night."

Chullo man never acted like this before… Should he act like Tweek? Should he tell him everything will be alright? He shouldn't lie, but…

The noirette constricted his arms around Kenny's neck, leaning into him. Craig, being tall like the maple tree, Kenny couldn't reach his shoulders for an appropriate, 'bro hug'. So, Kenny held his waist, burying his face in his chest. He peered up to Craig as he leaned up on his toes, pecking his cheek sweetly, smiling and Craig did as well.

Tweek was the only man to make Craig smile. And, Craig was smiling. Smiling down at Kenny. Not Tweek. As soon as he noticed this, the blonde became uncomfortable. He spoke, "I'm… You know I'm not Tweek or his replacement. I want you to get better. Grieving is okay but I don't think this is healthy."

With that, Craig let Kenny go, his demeanor changing and the smile fading. "Make me feel better?" he stopped, his cheeks progressively becoming wetter. "Tweek is dead. Nothing is ever going to make me feel better."

Kenny spat back, "Do you think Tweek would want you like this? Shut off in some room, watching old movies in the dark?"

"You don't know what I saw," Craig shifted from the subject, going back into his familar cold husk.

Kenny swallowed roughly, he didn't want to hear it. Any of it.

"He was gone for so long. I decided to go looking for him. And I saw him, lying there… Choking on his own blood… just because someone wanted a little money from the register. You haven't had anyone you love die. What if Butters died? You'd feel the same."

Kenny couldn't think of anything to say, instead he gave Craig a defeated look. The noirette bent down, reaching into the cage of squeaking guinea pigs, retrieving one. Each of them named something coffee related. Beans, Mocha, Caramel, Roast.

"You look just like him," Craig plopped on the side of his bed, stroking the squeaking rodent. "You don't sound like him, you don't smell like him but I can't look at you." his voice wavered, becoming soft, almost in a whisper. "Stop coming over to my house, stop leaving me money… Just don't ever come over again."

"Craig-"

"Just leave me alone, please."

He blonde growled, hissing under his breath, "Whatever."

And as he made his way out of the room, he noticed Tweek was still smiling.

And Kenny was the last person to make Craig smile.

...And that was the last time Kenny saw Craig. It was only a week ago… Kenny had thought that maybe if Kenny stayed away, he'd get better, but he didn't.

Craig got worse.

When Kenny hung up the phone, he set it as far away from him as he could. Butters instantly wrapped his arms around his neck and the blonde shuffled into his grasp, tugging him tighter and tighter against him. Kenny's body starting shake. "Don't blame yourself, Ken. You did everything you could for the poor little fella. It isn't your fault that he... did that to himself." Butters whispered out, petting his lover's hair. "Don't get yourself all upset."

Butters was always really bad at trying to cheer Kenny up… He knew he was just trying to help but it just didn't.

When Kenny tried to speak, his throat tightened and all he could let out is a meek whimper. "It's my fault. If I would have stayed with him longer, he wouldn't be…"

He doesn't cry, he's not the type.

And while Kenny broke apart in Butters arms, he realized that things changed. That every day wasn't the same, and everyday went on at its own pace.

All he had was his memories and his small escapes to make it _feel_ monotonous, safe and boring.


End file.
